


When You Couldn't Sleep - old version

by Ancientowlgirl



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Harvey's a baby, I Don't Even Know, I needed to get this off my chest, I'm Sorry, Masturbation, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Vaginal Fingering, What is going on, how did I get here, i blame victor, jim is so cute, no but bruce is actually a baby, no i'm not, what happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6404452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancientowlgirl/pseuds/Ancientowlgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although it wasn't the first time this had happened, it still freaked you out when Victor Zsasz popped into your apartment unannounced. You just weren't aware of how often he decided to come by or what he saw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because there isn't enough of Victor out there. I'm trash.

Work had been hell. I’d kicked my heels off as soon as I’d walked in the door and they lay haphazardly in the entry hallway. At this point I’m tired, my feet are sore, and I just want to forget today as quickly as possible. I’d bought take out on my way out of the office and it sat on the table waiting for me to eagerly dig in. The apartment is quiet except for the sounds of me shuffling around in the kitchen.  


“That smells good.” A voice says behind me.  


I jump up dropping my fork and causing my chair to tip over in the process. I turn around to find none other than Victor Zsasz standing a few inches away from me.  


“What are you doing here?”  


Victor laughs. It’s the same unsettling laugh I heard the first time I met him. He’s watching me intently with those large unblinking eyes of his. His eyes are just as unsettling as his laugh and I find it hard to maintain eye contact.  


“What’s for dinner?”  


He takes a step towards me and I automatically take a step back. The table’s edge digs into my backside.  


"How’d you get in?”  


I scoot against the side of the table, trying to get into a more open area and put some distance between us. As I’m doing so I feel the sharp edge of a knife glide across the flesh of my thumb. I try to keep my face and my body neutral as I pick up the knife and hide it behind my back.  


“Same as always.”  


There were at least three times before that I had known Victor was in my apartment. Something about his response makes me think that he’s been here more times than that.  


“How many times have you been here?”  


He shrugs.  


“It’s always at night. When you’re asleep.” He replies with a smile. “Except the other night.”  


He’s standing directly in front of me now and he’s succeeding in slowly backing me up against a wall. I consider trying to make a run for it and heading for the door, but to do that I would have to run past him.  


“Stop.” I say brandishing the knife out in front of me. “Don’t come closer.”  


His smile gets bigger.  


“That’s cute.”  


He grabs my wrist and twists. Hard.  


“Ah!” I cry as I drop the knife.  


I can feel his eyes studying my face as he drops my wrist. Fear and panic spread through my body, but before I can make a move his hand wraps around my throat. A broken noise escapes my lips as he shoves me until my back is flush with the wall. I see no malice in his eyes, but he does this for a living and he’s the best. Besides there's always that little bit of crazy in his eyes.  


“I was here the other night. When you couldn’t sleep.” He says. “I watched you touch yourself.”  


His free hand slides under my dress and up the inside of my thigh with the lightest touch. My eyes flicker up to his for a brief second. He’s still watching me with that unwavering gaze, smile still on his face. This time I can’t look away. It’s as if something in his eyes has locked on to mine and won’t let me go. He strokes the side of my neck with his thumb and loosens the grip he has on my throat, but not by much.  


“I didn’t realize what you were doing at first, but then you made that lewd little sound and it dawned on me.”  


He brings a finger up to stroke me through the fabric of my underwear. I gasp.  


“Such an inappropriate sound for such an appropriate girl. I watched you that whole time and you didn’t notice. And oh those little noises you made were so delicious.”  


Without removing my panties he sticks two fingers inside of me. Despite the fear from earlier I feel my body responding to his touch. A moan escapes me. I hate myself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that some part of me is enjoying this.  


“What a mess you were writhing on your bed.”  


My knees start to feel weak as that always welcome burning pressure builds and spreads through me. I grip his arm tightly, feeling that if I don’t hold onto something solid I might explode. Victor stops moving his fingers and pulls his hand away from me. I make the most pathetic whining noise at the loss of touch. I want to tell him not to stop, but he’s gripping my throat tightly again. With his free hand he grabs my arm and forces it down to my side. He leans forward and whispers dangerously close to my ear.  


“No touching.”  


He pulls back and watches me expectantly.  


“Got it?”  


“Yes.” I manage to respond.  


Without warning he sticks his fingers back inside of me. He starts up a slow torturous tempo that leaves me hanging just out of reach of complete pleasure. I try to grind against his fingers, but my attempts are futile. I throw my head back in frustration.  


“Please’”  


I look into his dark eyes with half hooded ones.  


“Please.”  


He speeds up and I feel myself lose control. I squeeze my eyes shut. My fingers slide against the smooth wall trying desperately to find something to hold onto, but there’s nothing. The moans that are leaving my body are, as he would say, inappropriate and so dirty. My legs are starting to shake with the effort of standing upright.  


“Victor.” I moan shamelessly.  


At the sound of his name he goes rigid. I open my eyes. There’s no smile on his face, no mischief in his eyes. All I see is something akin to confusion playing in those deep dark eyes. He pulls away from me, taking a few steps back.  


“I have to go.”  


“Victor-…”  


I go to grab his arm, but he moves away.  


“I have to go.” He says again, firmly.  


As Victor walks out of my kitchen and exits the apartment, I’m left with an ache between my legs and thoughts of when or if he’ll come back.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s been two weeks since the last time I saw Victor. There were no unannounced visits, nothing out of place to signify he’d been there while I was out. I even tried staying up late a couple of times at night to see if he’d pop by when I was asleep. Nothing. Strangely enough I was starting to feel as though I’d been abandoned. My home felt lonely. Instead of being relieved, I felt… worried. Where was he and what was was he up to? If Victor hadn’t been here to kill me then what could his purpose for getting in touch with me have been? Maybe he’d been sent to make sure I wouldn’t talk about what I’d seen. If that was the case then why hadn’t he killed me? After all there’s no silence like dead silence. Dead bodies leave a trail though, but I don’t think that Victor would really be concerned with that knowing his profession. Well whatever the reason I was alive and he was gone.

“Hey!” Someone says waving a hand in front of my face. 

“Huh?” I look up. 

Harvey Dent is standing in front of me, a briefcase in one hand and the other hugging several files to his chest. He’d look a mess; except it’s Harvey and he always looks like this. Besides his hair is in order and there’s hardly a wrinkle in his suit. If there’s one thing I can say with absolute certainty it’s that Harvey is a great attorney. He’s always at work before anyone else and he’s always working later than everyone. He tries to be as fair as he can, but when you work in a city like Gotham… well it can be kind of hard. The only times I’ve ever seen Harvey beyond pissed is when a good person gets screwed over or when justice isn’t served. Other than that he’s generally in a good mood with a smile on his face. 

“I can tell you haven’t heard a single word I’ve said.” He says. 

He doesn’t sound angry, so that’s good. 

“Harvey I...-“ 

“Don’t worry about it. I would love it though if you could grab the Richards and Peterson files from Amanda. I’ve got to run so I won’t be here when you get back with them, but I’ll leave the key to my office in the top drawer of your desk. “ 

“Okay.” 

“Also,” Harvey says half turning back to look at me, “I’m buying dinner tonight. Meet me at the Chinese place on the corner around six.” 

“Okay.” 

* * * * 

Amanda did not have the Richards and Peterson files. She also seemed offended that I would just assume she did have them. I mean what did she look like to me? A records keeper? No. Of course not. Silly me. 

The records room is downstairs tucked away in some forgotten corner of the building. The hallway leading to the room looks like something out of a horror movie. The click click click of my heels echoes all the way down the long corridor. This hallway just gives me the creepiest feeling so I usually try to walk pretty fast. You’d think that I’d be used to coming down here and grabbing files for Harvey, but he mostly has me running around upstairs getting something from someone. 

“Hey Serena.” I say as I approach the desk of our records keeper. 

I feel sorry for Serena. I don’t know how she can stand this job. All she does all day is sit back here in the records room. For the most part she organizes and checks files in and out. I don’t know what she does the rest of the time. 

“Oh hi.” 

“How’s it going?” 

“Slow. Are you getting files for Mr. Dent?” 

“Yeah, Richards and Peterson. “ 

Serena has me sign her sign out sheet and lets me roam free through the records. Since Amanda isn’t a records keeper and didn’t have the files I needed I have to spend twice as long looking for the ones that match with Harvey’s case. 

* * * * 

“What’s got you out of sorts?” Harvey asks as the waitress brings us our drinks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Come on. We spend all day together. You don’t think I’ve noticed.” 

“Noticed what?” 

“The last couple of days you’ve had this lost puppy dog look on your face. Your sassy remarks have stopped. Hell, you barely talk. You’re acting like a teenager.” He says with a laugh. 

“Oh that’s rich coming from you, baby face.” 

“Ouch.” He feigns offense. “But no seriously come on what’s up?” 

What’s up? What is up? What’s wrong with me? I’m worried about some guy who was probably sent to kill me. I’m worried when I should be relieved that he’s gone. And besides if he’s dead it’s probably been a long time coming, I mean he kills people for a living for fuck’s sake. 

“Okay silent treatment, I get it.” 

“No, Harvey I …. I just realized it’s not worth it. I just want to forget it. I’m glad you brought it up. I’ve been stuck on this for no reason and I just need to get over it.” 

“If you say so.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harvey, being the sweetheart that he is, insists on walking me home after dinner. And it definitely has nothing to do with the fact that I may or may not be slightly intoxicated. I also may or may not be the biggest lightweight I know. In gentleman like fashion he takes his jacket off and places it around my shoulders when I mention that I am cold. The thing about Harvey apart from how nice he is is that it was never uncomfortable between us, even in deep silences. Granted it would take a miracle to get the guy to shut up.

“Harvey Dent. You are the best. Thanks. “ I say giggling as we reach my place. “I’ll pay you back.” 

That’s me, the giggly drunk. Harvey helps me keep my balance as we climb up the few steps leading to my door. 

“Hey as long as you know that I’m the best we’re all good.” 

I do know that. Harvey is the best. He’s also so nice, so very very nice. And he has a nice laugh. And smile. And he’s warm. So warm. I don’t so much as hug him as throw my arms around him unceremoniously. He seems to understand the gesture though as his arms wrap around me. I’ve never noticed how nice Harvey smells. He smells so good. I take a step back and smile at Harvey. He smiles back at me. I lean forward to kiss him, but lose my balance and end up kissing his cheek. 

“Goodnight.” I say trying to brush it off as a goodnight kiss. 

Harvey seems to think nothing of it or more likely doesn’t seem to notice. He gives me a quick peck on the cheek, one last hug, and bids me goodnight before taking off down the dark streets of Gotham. 

“What the hell am I doing?” I say to myself as I unlock the door and let myself in. “Harvey’s a friend. He’s a friend.” 

It’s dark inside, but I’m too lazy turn the lights on. Besides I feel like shit and anything I bump into now I probably would’ve bumped into with the lights on considering how not drunk I am. I end up stubbing my toe on something on my way to my room. 

“Ow.” 

After rubbing my foot long enough to let the pain ebb away, I climb under the covers and stare at the ceiling. What is going on with me? I just tried to kiss Harvey. Harvey’s been like a brother to me for ages and although he’s attractive, I’ve never been attracted to him. To top that, I’ve been worried about an assassin that I don’t even know for too long. I mean seriously what reason do I have to be worried about this guy? I don’t know him, we’re not friends, he’s not working for me, so why am I concerned about his whereabouts? Did I hit my head? Have I been brainwashed? I seem to be making a lot of questionable decisions in my personal life lately and although I’m aware of them I feel like this is only the beginning. 

* * * * 

I’m in the goddamn hallway again. One of the lights up ahead is about to go out. It keeps flickering and making the most god-awful buzzing sound. Harvey’s sent me down to retrieve some files for one of his latest cases, but I can’t remember which one’s I’m meant to grab. I don’t know if I’m going to get any reception down here, but I pull out my phone to try and give him a call. As I bring the phone up to my ear I make eye contact with Harvey, who is standing in front of the records’ room door staring at me. 

“Motherfucker… Harvey why the hell did you send me down here if…-“ 

He starts motioning at me, but I can’t make out what he’s trying to get across. 

“Harvey what are you doing?” 

He places a finger in front of his lips, asking me to be quiet and then goes back to making the same motion as before a bit more frantically. It almost looks like he’s trying to say stop. Go back. I can’t really tell. The light that was flickering goes out with a pop above Harvey’s head. It makes the hallway look darker, scarier, like it really is part of a horror movie. It’s taking too long to get down this hall for my liking; in fact it’s actually taking way too long to get down this hallway. I should be getting closer to Harvey, but he seems so far away. 

“Harvey?” 

He doesn’t reply. It looks like he’s still motioning at me, but I can’t make any of it out. 

“Harvey, you’re kind of freaking me out.” 

The darkness around Harvey looks like its expanding and engulfing his body. He doesn’t seem to notice. I start walking faster towards him even though I honestly don’t want to. It’s like my body has a mind of its own. The higher the darkness climbs on Harvey’s body, the faster I walk. No matter what my body is thinking or how fast I walk I don’t think I’ll make it to Harvey before the darkness takes all of him. I’m running now. It’s not enough. As the darkness takes over he makes eye contact with me. It’s not Harvey looking at me. 

It’s Victor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Sorry it's taken so long to post this one. I actually meant to post it a few days after the last chapter, but I actually had *work* to do at work. Also it's kind of short and nothing too eventful happens. *Sorry.*

I'm walking at a pretty moderate pace down one of Gotham's backstreets on my way home from the store. Although I'm not a huge fan of taking the backstreets, they are the fastest way to get home from the grocery store. I was halfway home before I remembered that I had to get some things at the store that couldn't wait. So I had turned back despite the hour. Now, walking home, it's a bit later than I'd like it to be, but I can’t help it now.. I'd grown up in Gotham, so I wouldn't say that I was scared of the dark streets, but you don’t have to be smart to know that they definitely weren't safe. To get home I have to cut through an alley, which I'll admit makes me slightly uncomfortable considering what had happened not too long ago to the Wayne family, but I've walked this alley plenty of times and I don't really see any need to change my route. I come up to the alley and I’ve barely stepped into it when I hear the sounds of a struggle.

"Don Falcone is very very unhappy with you." 

I can't hear what the other man is saying, but it sounds like he's begging or trying to bargain for his life. I can make out a couple of figures in the dark. One is standing and one is kneeling opposite him. There are two figures standing behind the one that is kneeling. I should leave. I should just turn around and walk away. This is not a good situation to be caught up in. There's always been a part of me that never really listened to reason. I like to call it my curious side. I've always been one of those people that would pull something apart to figure out how it works, but could never quite put it back together again. My mother and friends like to call it my stupid side. I'm inclined to agree with them, but I still can't move from the spot. I mean only a stupid or suicidal person would stand in the mouth of an alleyway where it looks like something bad is going to happen, right? The standing figure wags his finger in front of the kneeling man and makes a tutting noise similar to what a teacher or a parent would make to a small child about to misbehave in one of those campy eighties movies. 

"No begging for your life." 

Without warning the standing man pulls out a gun and shoots the kneeling man point blank in the head. He laughs. It's the most disturbing thing I've ever heard. I let out a strangled noise that is much louder than I wish it was as my eyes go wide and I drop the bags I’m holding. A car drives by, casting a light into the alley, allowing me to see the scene in front of me. The man that had shot the other guy is standing with his body angled towards the mouth of the alley. He’s bald with large eyes and at the moment has a knife pressed against the skin of his arm. Beside him are two woman that look like killer strippers and from what I just witnessed I don’t think that assumption is too far off from the reality. The dead guy is crumpled on the ground. The car passes casting the alley into darkness again. 

On second thought, I know a different way home. 

I take a step back. Then another. Then another. I take off down a different street and let me tell you, running in heels - not such a great idea. I don’t stop running until I reach my front door. Rushing inside I slam the door shout and lock it before pressing my back against it. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and my heart beating as if it’s about to burst out of my chest as I try to catch my breath. I can’t remember the last time I ran that hard. I can’t remember the last time I ran. After god knows how long I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a huge glass of water then head over to the living room and splaying out on the couch. I turn the TV on, but it’s just noise, I can’t pay attention to it. 

Oh god what am I supposed to do now? I should call the police shouldn’t I? That would be the right thing to do. I mean a man was shot. I was there. And I saw who did it. That makes me a key witness. Gotham PD isn’t exactly... well I don’t know. GCPD is almost as crooked as the streets of Gotham. That man had said something about Don Falcone. Well half of the guys in the GCPD are in Falcone’s pocket and I’m sure the other half sides with Salvatore Maroni. So yeah I think the chances of anyone doing anything are pretty slim. But I mean I should call someone or do something. I could call and ask to speak to James Gordon. Harvey seems to think he’s the one redeeming factor of the GCPD. But he… 

* * * * 

When I wake up in the morning I feel gross. I didn’t brush my teeth or wash my face or anything really. I fell asleep on the couch and came up with no plan at all on what to do or who to call. When I check my watch I realize I’m running late and I sit up fast causing my head to spin. I take a second to get steady before I get up and rush to get ready. Ugh. Hopefully Harvey understands. If I tell him what happened last night he can’t really stay angry at me can he? Besides if I tell him what happened last night he can help me figure out what to do. After a quick shower I grab all my stuff and head out for work. When I open the front door I stop and almost drop everything I’m holding. 

Sitting on the steps are the grocery bags I dropped last night.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been exactly two months to the day since the first time I had seen Victor. I’d been sitting at my desk typing up some letters for Harvey when it hit me. I’d already had to write and type the date a couple of times today, but for some reason seeing it on the letter addressed to James Gordon had made me remember that night in the alley. Another week has passed with no sign of Victor. I thought I’d gotten over it, but occasionally I have dreams about him. Most of them are that same dream of darkness devouring him. In some he dies. Most recently I’ve had a couple of sex dreams about him, which just leave me confused when I wake up. I have no idea what any of these dreams mean and I don’t know if I want to.

“Hey.” Harvey says as he walks out of his office. 

“What’s up?” 

Not exactly professional, but its Harvey. 

“Could you take these to the post office for me after work?” he asks dropping another load of papers on my desk. 

“Sure. Anything for you Harvey.” I say rather sarcastically. 

“I’m going to be finishing up the Stafford case here shortly would you mind grabbing the McDonald file? I’ll be starting that one as soon as I finish this one. If you could throw them on my desk that’d be great.” 

I finish up the letter to James Gordon and stuff it in an envelope addressed to the GCPD before heading down to the records room. I’d been able to avoid this god awful hallway for about a week now, but I knew eventually I was going to have to come back down here. The weird Harvey/Victor dream I had makes the hallway seem even more out of a horror movie. I expect to see a flickering light when I get to it and am mentally preparing myself for it, but nothing happens. It looks exactly the same as always. 

“Get it together.” I mutter to myself. 

The post office is on the way to my place, so I don’t really mind the extra stop. Besides it’s one of those days where I just want to prolong going home. Although Gotham weather tends to be on the dreary side, today it’s not so bad. There’s still a bit of sunlight out as I’m nearing home. At first I think I’m remembering my first encounter with Victor again, but the closer I get to the steps the more certain I am that the bags in front of my door are real. When I get to them I stand there like an idiot just staring at them. What the hell. I check over both shoulders to see if anyone is watching, but I don’t see anyone. 

Picking up the bags I open the door and carry them into the kitchen where I rifle through them. I’ve only pulled a couple of items out of the bag and I can already tell that all of the things in the bags are exactly what I picked up two months ago. Dumping everything out on the counter confirms my suspicions. Everything is identical except for one thing. On impulse that day I’d bought a set of panties. I thought that they looked cute and they were pretty modest, so I’d bought them. The one’s I’d just pulled out were completely different. In fact they were something I would never buy. They were obscene and… sexy. 

I’m holding the underwear up, examining them, when a pair of arms come around me. The hands grip mine and pull my arms closer to my body. My heart is hammering in my chest similar to when an animal considered prey is caught by a predator. I go weak in the knees with fright and feel like I’m going to faint, but the arms wrap around me even tighter and hold me against a hard body. 

“I think these suit you far better than the other ones you bought.” He says in my ear. 

Victor! 

I pull myself away from him, turning to face him. 

“Victor. Why are you here?” 

He shrugs. 

“Visiting.” 

“Wh…-“ 

He cuts me off by placing a finger against my lips. 

“Shh.” He says grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the living room. “I’ve prepared dinner.” 

According to Victor ‘prepared’ means putting take out in plates. The food is displayed on the coffee table, the take out boxes are stacked neatly off to one side. He motions for me to sit down on the couch before he takes a seat. 

“Are you going to wear them?” he asks referring to the panties still in my hand. 

I shake my head. 

“No.” I say firmly. “Victor what are you doing here? What gives you the right to come and go as you please in my home?” 

He doesn’t say anything. Instead he takes his suit jacket off and places it gently and properly on the back of the couch. 

“Victor.” 

“You know,” he says as he starts unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt, “You’re the only one that calls me by my first name… apart from Don Falcone that is.” 

As he rolls up his sleeves I get a glimpse of the scars on his arms. Most of them are healed, but there’s one that looks fresh, bright red, and angry on his left arm. The way the scars are set up on his body kind of makes them look like tally marks. 

“What are these?” I ask. 

Without thinking I reach out and stroke one. Victor stands up immediately. He tries to make it look like it was a deliberate action, but to me it looks more like a response to being put in an uncomfortable position. 

“Sorry.” I whisper instinctively. 

“These are from work.” He says facing me. “They help me keep track.” 

They help him keep track. I look at the scars again. They’re deliberate. I remember that time in the alley again. He’d had a knife to his arm and… and he’d just killed somebody. Oh. 

Oh. 

Victor sits back down on the couch with a little more distance between us. The last time Victor was here… when we… when he… well he’d said no touching. He had stopped and told me not to touch him. At the time I thought that it had been an in the moment kind of thing, but with his reaction just now, well I don’t think that’s the case. I don’t get it though. He’s okay with touching me, but he freaks out if I touch him. Is it a control thing? Is it…– 

“Let’s eat.” 

I turn the TV on as a distraction to avoid the awkwardness that would surely ensue, but surprisingly it’s not awkward at all. We fall into a comfortable silence eating and watching an action movie. When I’ve had all I can eat I place my plate on the table and prop my feet up on it. It seems that Victor has settled into the couch and looks a little less threatening. A few hours pass like this before I start feeling drowsy. Standing, I pick up the plates on the table. 

“I’m going to bed.” I tell Victor. “If you use any plates later tonight just leave them in the sink and I’ll wash them tomorrow.” 

After I’m done washing up in the bathroom I peek back into the living room on my way to my room. Victor is still sitting on the couch and if I didn’t know any better I might have said it looked like he was asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys. Hopefully this makes up for it. :) :) :)

"I'm going on a date tomorrow." I say watching Victor to gauge his reaction.

Somehow we had fallen into a routine. Victor came over almost every night now. I would make dinner, enough for two and we'd eat together on the couch and watch a movie. If Victor didn't show up for dinner, then I'd leave a plate of food in the microwave for him, which would usually be gone by morning. On the nights when I'd go off to bed before he showed up I'd set up blankets and pillows on the couch for him. I'd started doing this after one night when I'd woken up to pee and had found him passed out on the couch. I don't know how I'd let this become the new normal for me. I remember the initial fear I'd felt at the thought of just being alone with him before, but now, though there's still a trace of fear, I don't feel uncomfortable when he shows up unannounced. 

"I'll probably be out late." 

"Okay." He responds. 

Victor is in what I like to think of as his own personal version of relaxed. He's sitting with perfect posture, back straight against the back of the couch, hands in his lap. It doesn't seem very comfortable to me, but to him I suppose it is. He'd taken his suit jacket off when he got here and it lay neatly draped over the back of one of the armchairs. Both of his guns and his knife are set in front of him on the coffee table, in line and evenly spaced out. 

"I'll buy you some take out and leave it in the microwave for you. I'll leave the blankets out too in case you need them. " 

I don't know why I expected much of a reaction from him. If I've learned anything about Victor in the time we've spent together, it's that he can be very unpredictable. He shows up when you least expect him, he does the oddest things, but somehow, maybe since it's him they seem normal. The only constant I've found that concerns Victor is that he likes order. I suppose when you're an assassin you kind of need to know where your tools are at all times. 

"Alright well, I'm going off to bed." 

"Goodnight." He says. 

This time he does look away from the TV and he makes eye contact. Later, as I lay in bed I realize that those big unsettling eyes don't seem so scary anymore. 

The next day Harvey all but shoves me out of the firm at exactly five o 'clock. He's been acting like a flustered mother hen since I told him I had a date tonight. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't more excited about this than I am. It's ridiculous, he's ridiculous. I was in the middle of some not-so-important paperwork when Harvey had barged out of his office like a madman and started packing all my things away. When I asked him what he was doing he pulled me out of my chair and said that this didn't happen often and we needed to take advantage of it when it did and that I should have fun. Then he opened the door and pushed me out. 

I'd picked out the clothes I wanted to wear on this date last night right before I'd gone to bed. I was going to wear a comfortable blue dress with colorful flowers on it. It's simple and one of my favorites, the perfect combination of pretty and fun. Since I don't have to worry about what I'm going to wear I take my time in the shower, enjoying the sensation of the warm water on my skin. The water is starting to get cold by the time I decide to get out. After getting my hair and makeup done in the bathroom I walk back to my room wrapped in a towel and as the cold air outside of the bathroom hits me, gooseflesh rises up on my body. 

In my bedroom I rummage around in the top drawer of my dresser where I keep all my underclothes trying to find a nice pair of panties to wear. At the bottom of the drawer I find the pair that Victor had bought me a while ago. I had completely forgotten them. I pull them out and examine them again. 

"Are you going to wear those on your date?" 

My heart practically leaps out of my chest. 

"Victor." I say turning around to face him as I regain my composure. "You're welcome in my home, just please do not sneak up on me. I just about had a heart attack. " 

He shrugs, which seems to be his way of agreeing without actually agreeing. 

"So are you?" he asks. 

"Am I what?" 

"Going to wear those on your date?" 

He points to the hand clutching the towel and underwear to my chest. 

"If I do what's that matter to you?" 

"I bought them." 

"Yes. You did, but you gave them to me, which makes them mine. So what I do with them is none of your concern. " 

He starts to say something, but I cut him off. 

"I'm not arguing this with you, it's ridiculous. Can you leave so I can change?" 

"Sure, but it's nothing I haven't seen before.” 

He closes the door before I have a chance to reply. 

I change quickly and double check my hair and makeup before I leave. Slipping into my heels I make my way to the living room. 

"Don't stay up too late." I say as I pass Victor on the couch. 

"I could say the same thing to you." He says giving me a pointed look as he shoves noodles into his mouth. 

I blush. 

"Thanks for the takeout." He says as I walk out the door. 

I met Mark at a café two days ago. I had been walking out at the same time he had been walking in. We bumped into each other and I dropped my tea. He insisted on buying me another, which lead to us sitting together and chatting while they remade my tea. When they called out my order he asked me for my phone number. Normally I don't give out personal information to complete strangers, but Mark had managed to charm me. I end up meeting Mark at a restaurant that's not too far from the café where we'd met. He's polite and holds the door for me when we enter. Mark is not shy. From the moment we sit down he starts to talk, which I don't mind, it keeps from having awkward silences. At one point I get up to use the bathroom and on my way there I swear I see Victor, but when I look back there's no one there. After dinner Mark offers to take me home. 

"I had a good time." He says as we pull up in front of my place. 

"I did too." I reply. 

"Don't get out yet.” he says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. 

He gets out of the car and walks over to my side to open the door. 

"Thanks." 

He walks me up to the door. He leans in close to me. I feel nervous little butterflies in my stomach as we stand under the light that hangs to the side of the door. 

"Go out with me again tomorrow." He says. 

"Okay." I reply, my voice barely over a whisper. 

"Good." He leans even closer and kisses me on the cheek. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." 

He walks back to his car and waves to me before driving away. 

"How was your date?" Victor asks from the couch as soon as I walk in. 

"Fine." I say trying to stop smiling. 

"Looks like it was more than fine." He replies. 

I shrug. 

"I'm going to bed." 

Harvey is ecstatic the next day when I tell him I have a follow up date with Mark that night. He lets me off early again with a warning to not expect this 'getting off early' thing to continue if everything works out and Mark and I get serious. 

When I get home Victor is there. He's sitting on the couch, he's still wearing his suit jacket, there are no guns on the table, and the TV is off. 

"Have you been waiting for me?" 

"Yes." 

"Okay...?" 

"Are you going out with that guy again?" 

"Why?" I ask. 

"Are you?" 

"Yes, but why does that matter to you? Are you jealous?"I ask jokingly. 

Victor does not seem amused. In fact he seems pissed off. 

"Why?" 

"Why?" 

"Why are you going out with him again?" 

"Because I like...-" 

"Why would you go out with him when last night you were moaning my name in your sleep?" 

I feel my cheeks heat up. 

"What?" 

"You were dreaming of me." 

"That's... that's not relevant." 

"It's not relevant?" his usually calm voice has a bite to it. 

"No." I say sternly. "No it's not. I like this guy. I want to go out with him." 

"Last night I went to your room to see if you were asleep yet. You were moaning my name. I could hear you. Desperate. Hungry. I saw it in your face. You wanted me. " 

"Stop." 

"Are you afraid to admit it? Don't you care about what we have?" 

"What we have? Victor we don't have anything." I say angrily. "You come by my house. We watch movies. I can't even say we're friends because I'm still afraid one day you're going to lean over and grab one of those guns. I'm afraid that the only thing left of me will be a scar on your arm. 

Funky Town starts playing, startling me into silence because of the sheer absurdity of it. It's not until Victor pulls out his cell phone that I realize it's his ringtone. He doesn't break eye contact with me the whole time he's on the phone. There's something burning in his eyes and I can't tell if it's anger or sadness. 

"I have to go." He says as soon as he hangs up. 

He leaves before I can say anything. 

Damn that bastard. I would never admit this to anyone, but, as much as I hate to say it, I cry when I'm angry. I hate it because it makes me look like a stereotypical girl, but I can't help it. And right now, as I stand in the middle of my living room, about to go on my date, I feel like having a good long cry. 

Instead of crying I get ready for my date with Mark. He picks me up promptly at seven. He told me our second date was going to be a surprise. I'm not a huge fan of surprises, but there's always a first time for everything. He keeps up the chatter on the drive, which is turning out to be quite a longer ride than I expected. He pulls up in front of what looks to be an abandoned warehouse. 

"What's this?" I ask, suddenly feeling a little worried. 

"It's nothing weird, I promise." he says with a laugh. "I know this looks bad, but trust me.” 

Mark gets the door for me again and we start making our way towards the warehouse entrance. I realize that on the drive here I hadn't paid any attention to the roads we had taken and I honestly don't know Mark that well at all. He doesn't seem like a bad guy though, but then again neither does Victor when he's asleep on my couch. 

Something hard hits me on the back of the head. For a second I see stars before I feel myself falling, falling, falling. 

* * * * 

"Well well, this is the girl that's going to bring down Falcone's best man?" 

My head hurts - a lot. There's a pounding inside my head that I can't get away from. I squeeze my eyes shut tight. It makes me want to go crawl under something nice and warm and heavy. I can't really concentrate because when I try to the pounding in my head gets worse. 

"She's a pretty one. I can see why she has him so enthralled. Look at me girl." The woman says grabbing my chin. 

I open my eyes and look directly into the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. 

"Do you know who I am?" she asks. 

I shake my head. 

“You can call me Ms. Mooney.” She says letting go of my chin.“My friends call me Fish ." 

She walks over to a big scary looking guy that's smiling at me.

"And this is Butch.”

The face I don't recognize, the voice I don't recognize, but the name - that name I know. Fear shoots through my veins. 

“Don’t worry pet, we’ll take real good care of you.” 

I don’t doubt it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting this so late!!! Feedback is always welcome. Thanks guys!

A black van with tinted windows that I hadn't noticed when I was first brought in is parked in the warehouse near the back. I feel like I'd be a little more concerned for my well being if this wasn't so cliché. Butch grabs my arm and directs me into the back of the van. once in the car he insists on adjusting the seatbelt for me. He then proceeds to sit in the seat opposite me and stare with an intensely creepy smile. The rest of Mooney's men load up into their respective vehicles and we take off under cover of the ever present Gotham Gloom. The ride is quiet apart from the sounds of the streets outside. I haven't been bound or gagged so I guess that's a plus.

I should have told someone about Victor. I should have contacted James Gordon. I have technically been harboring a criminal haven't I? Or at the least I should have told Harvey. There was a point in time when Harvey and I used to tell each other everything. It's just that the more time I spent with Victor the more I wanted to keep him as my secret. At some point I'd gone from seeing him as an assassin to seeing him as... someone I care about. That's weird isn't it? I haven't known the guy for long, but something about Victor makes me want to care for him. 

When the van stops and we've piled out of the vehicle I realize that I recognize the street we're on. In fact I've walked past it several times and for that matter it's not that far from my apartment or from the office. I follow the group inside with Butch pulling up the rear behind me. I glance back at the road one more time before I walk into the club. There's a handful of people waiting for us, or rather Mooney, in the center of the club. There's a girl, Clary, waiting for me though. Mooney instructs her to take me to a room and get me settled in. I can only imagine what these rooms are for. I follow Clary through a door off to the side and down a darkly lit corridor. 

The room she leads me to is tiny. There's a bed that doesn't look completely uncomfortable that takes up most of the space in the room and a pointillist painting of a curly haired girl's profile with a flower crown on her head. That's it for decoration. There's not even a closet in here. I thought all rooms had closets in them. I peak my head out the door as Clary leaves and find two guards positioned on either side of the door. Okay. No unsolicited strolls outside of this room, got it. I shut the door and take a seat on the bed, which, as I guessed, is not comfortable. Oh boy I would hate for this to be the last thing I sleep on before I die. If I die that is. I mean if I die I want it to be of natural causes or a surprise - like getting struck by lightning or something to that effect. I don't want to sleep on this bed knowing I'm going to be killed. I know Mooney said I'm valuable alive, but when they get what they want they'll get rid of me. I mean it doesn't make sense for them not to, getting rid of loose ends and all that jazz. 

A couple of hours later one of the guards opens the door and tells me to follow him. His I'm-not-putting-up-with-any-funny-business tone of voice makes me spring off the bed and hurry out the door. he ends up leading me back to the main part of the club and to a booth where Fish Mooney is sitting. Butch is standing directly next to where she's sitting, all smiles. The guard and I stop in front of the booth and wait patiently for Mooney to acknowledge us. She dismisses the guard with a wave of her hand and then motions for me to sit. 

"You, my pet, are tied directly to someone who is becoming quite a problem." Mooney says as soon as I sit down. 

She takes one of my hands between hers and pats it. 

"If all goes well and this plays out properly all you'll have to do is sit there and look pretty. If not, well... it might not turn out so nice," 

"But why?" I ask, my voice barely audible. 

"It's rude to mumble dear. Now speak up, what did you say?" 

"Why? What are you doing all of this for?" 

"Isn't it obvious? Gotham needs a new leader, someone to stand up for her and do whatever it takes. Falcone is getting old, his time has passed and all these other fools like Maroni, they have no vision, no sensitivity - they're all brutes too busy banging each other up to see the big picture. It's time Gotham had a woman at her helm to make a difference. Let's take you for example. If any of those other men had taken you in as a captive they would have tied you up and stuck you in some rotting room, but not I. See you are a guest in my home, you have a room in my home. I have not bound you nor have any of my men beat you. Do you see the difference it makes, it makes you all the more cooperative. Look at us sitting here having a nice chat. I mean to change the way things are done for the better. And trust me it will get better. No more idly sitting by and letting things happen." 

**** 

I got tired of pacing several hours ago. The room is small enough that I can almost touch both walls when I'm standing in the center and I spread out my arms. It takes about six steps to cross the length of it. I've been staring at the poster of the girl with the flower crown so long I'm starting to go cross-eyed. After my talk with Mooney the other day I was sent back to my room where dinner was waiting for me. The last couple of days have been very uneventful and redundant. Breakfast is waiting for me when I wake up. I sit around for an hour or so and then I get taken to a bathroom where I can shower and pee then I'm lead back to my room. Several hours later the guards bring me a lunch tray and I get a bathroom break before I get locked in my room again. Dinner is the same as lunch. 

On the fourth day one of guards brings me a dress and heels instead of dinner and tells me to get dressed quickly. Confused, but grateful for a deviation from the usual schedule I do as he says. Once done the guard leads me out to the main part of the club just like that first night, but instead of leading me to Fish Mooney he leads me to a table at the center with two other burly looking guys. There's someone on stage performing a sultry song and swaying her hips almost hypnotically. The lights are dimmed to give the room a warm almost romantic feel that contrasts beautifully with the gothic look of the place. I take a seat at the table as the performer finishes her song. The room is filled with a smattering of polite applause before it falls to the sounds of soft chatter. After a few seconds I pick up on a sound I recognize, a voice that sounds familiar coming from behind me. Victor's name dies on my lips as our eyes meet. He's walking next to Mooney, Butch, as always, a few steps behind her. They seem to be making polite small talk, or rather Mooney's talking and Victor's listening. Mooney ends up leading Victor to a table in front of us and she has him sit so that he's facing me. 

"Thanks for coming on such short notice." Mooney starts. "You Victor, you're smart. I've always known that about you and I suspect so has Falcone and that's why he keeps you around. I know that you know what's going to happen in the coming days even if others are blind to it. I haven't invited you here to issue you unwanted advice, but rather to lay some things out in the open. It's quite simple. You are standing in the way of something I want and I always get what I want. Stay out of this or don't, that's your prerogative, but you should know I have something you want. Protect him or protect what I've got - it's your choice, but know this; you cannot save them both. You my friend will have to decide what is more important to you - loyalty or love." 

The first notes of the next performance fill the room. I snap back into awareness shaking my head. I feel dazed like I just woke up from an impromptu nap. I try to focus back on Mooney and Victor. I can't make out what she says next or if Victor responds, but I watch him push his chair back and stand. I make a move to stand, but one of the guards grabs my arm tightly. I try to will Victor to look in my direction one more time, but I end up watching him leave without a second glance to me.


	8. Author's Note

Hey everyone,

I't s been a while since I visited this story. Honestly it started out as just a one shot, but here we are. I didn't really like the way the story was going and kind of lost inspiration to work on it however while I was looking through some old stuff I came back across this and decided to revamp it. So I pretty much re-wrote the whole thing. I'm keeping some of the stuff from the old version and plugging it in to the new one, but the new version is a lot different - particularly in the beginning. I'll be posting it under the same name and hopefully you guys enjoy the new storyline!!!! If you guys have any questions or suggestions feel free to send me a message. I'm also on tumblr as Ancientowlgirl so shoot me a line. 

Thanks xoxo,


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